


better in time

by chiarascura



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Highlander Fusion, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/pseuds/chiarascura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix and Carver's wedding night, where Felix angsts about Dorian, the husband he left in the future and Carver, his new husband. Outlander AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better in time

**Author's Note:**

> so I am only slightly obsessed with the Outlander series, and my brain went "what if carver was jamie and felix was claire?? carver in a kilt!!!" so here we are
> 
> if you're not familiar with outlander: Felix accidentally time-traveled back into the Dragon Age, where Fereldans are basically Scottish Highlanders in the 1700s and the Tevinters are the occupying British army. Felix has to marry Carver for protection and the culture shock is real.
> 
> if you are familiar with outlander: basically the Amells are the MacKenzies, Hawkes are Frasers, Aveline is Murtaugh (lol), and Dorian is Frank.
> 
> thank you soooo much to [jack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/revolutionjack) for your amazing beta and support <3 luv u

This was madness. Absolute madness.  
  
Felix still wasn’t sure this was entirely real. Maybe he was dreaming, maybe he was hallucinating vividly. Maybe he’d died and this was heaven.  
  
Whatever it was, it didn’t stop the fact that Felix currently sat in an inn awaiting his new _husband_ , in Ferelden, in the Dragon Age.  
  
Felix swallowed as the door opened, but he didn’t move from where he sat hunched over the rickety wooden table beside the hearth, running his fingers against the uneven grain. An honest to Maker hearth, a handmade wood-hewn table and chairs. No electric light, no heater beside what the fire could produce, no running water except a little pitcher on the table in front of him. None of the little conveniences he grew up with.  
  
The shouting at the door sounded excited and raucous, and Felix turned to see his new husband pushed inside by his laughing and singing clansmen. The Amells hadn’t been entirely friendly to Felix’s sudden midnight appearance weeks prior, but now that he’d married one of their men, they seemed much more amenable. Carver’s cheeks were pink and his face flush with happiness, and not a little anticipation.  
  
Felix could understand his wariness. Having been married, Felix knew what their wedding night would be like. Carver, on the other hand, was a virgin.  
  
Carver brushed off the excited hands pushing him deeper into the room and glanced at Felix before turning to kick the others out. “Go on, Varric, Aveline, get out.”  
  
Varric’s deep belly laugh incited another round of laughter. “That’s right boys, Felix needs to make a man out of wee Carver here.” Carver retaliated with a punch to Varric’s shoulder, but the visitors began to make their way back downstairs. _Fereldans_ , Felix thought with a roll of his eyes.  
  
Aveline gave Felix one long look, and Felix’s belly quivered under her glare. The woman had been looking out for Carver for years, had pledged herself to Carver’s older sister before she’d died, and Felix felt small and unworthy in the face of Aveline’s protection. She would eviscerate him without a second thought if he hurt Carver, and they both knew it.  
  
He turned back in his chair to face the hearth as the door shut behind the Highlanders with a sharp click. Carver moved through the room behind him, taking off his boots and jacket, shuffling around until he came to stand beside Felix.  
  
“Are you, uh. All right?” Carver’s voice shook slightly, clearly trying to mask his nervousness and genuine concern for Felix.  
  
Felix shrugged and looked up at Carver with a bland smile. He had asked for none of this, not the wedding, not the escape from his own people, not the bloody time travel. He’d been forced into it by a Maker-damned magic amulet and honestly had no other choice than to adapt.  
  
A Tevinter in Ferelden, especially one from the future with little knowledge of the time and customs, had very few options.  
  
He was an outsider. Many met him with hostility or saw him as one of the occupiers trying to eliminate the Fereldan way of life. He couldn’t blame them, when the Imperium systematically destroyed bands of Highlanders throughout the kingdom to incorporate the land into the Imperium. As Carver’s husband, he would shed his Tevinter identity and become one of them, protected by the clan and by Carver himself. Without that protection, Felix would be even more lost, possibly dead.  
  
Carver sat in the other chair and poured two glasses of wine, handing one off to Felix. Their hands brushed, and Felix felt heat rush up his arm and into his chest. He gulped down the wine in one quick shot and refilled his glass.  
  
“Are you…” Carver didn’t finish his sentence, so Felix didn’t answer. Felix could feel the tension coming from Carver in waves, suffocating him and making this night worse than it was before.  
  
He stared into the fire, twisting his gold wedding band around his finger, the one from Dorian, thinking about all he had left behind. In the future. Maker, this couldn’t be real. The silver ring felt heavy on his other hand, the memory of Carver sliding it on bright in his mind.  
  
Carver sighed heavily. “Look, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want. I don’t…” He paused, seemed to reconsider his words. “Will you tell me about him? Your husband?”  
  
Felix looked up, eyebrows raised. Felix knew Carver was observant and intelligent, but it was surprising to have that mind turned on him. Felix swallowed through the sudden thickness in his throat. How could he tell his new husband about the one he just left? The one who was still alive, somewhere in the future, probably out of his mind with worry at Felix’s disappearance.  
  
“He’s… wonderful.” Felix wondered how he could describe his life without giving away too much, without revealing that he was from the damn future. “We met as children, and our parents worked together.” That was an understatement: as Magisters, their fathers ran the government, but Felix didn’t think Carver, being a Fereldan wanted by the occupying Tevinter authorities, would appreciate that detail. “When Dorian came of age, he studied with my father and we grew close.” Felix felt the familiar swell of emotion in his chest as he thought of everything he had lost, every moment he would never have with Dorian unless he could escape.  
  
Carver nodded thoughtfully, sipping his wine and showing genuine interest in Felix’s story. Felix told Carver little anecdotes, snippets of their life in Qarinus, trying to keep it as vague as possible as not to rouse any suspicion.  
  
As Felix spoke of his honeymoon, the reason Dorian and he came to the in the first place, the burning sensation behind his eyes became too much and he gritted his teeth to keep any tears from escaping. Carver reached out and grasped his hand across the table, squeezing gently and grounding Felix in the moment. Felix met his eyes and nodded in thanks. Carver smiled and kept silent, letting Felix have a moment.  
  
Carver started talking to fill the silence. About his two sisters, his parents, growing up on a farm with animals everywhere and a faithful mabari creatively named Dog. He was only twenty-two, almost ten years younger than Felix, but his life had seen so much struggle and hardship. Felix admired him greatly not only for his strength but his dedication and will, his kindness, his empathy… the list went on.  
  
They finished the carafe of wine together, and Carver ventured back out through the main room of the inn to filch food and more wine from the kitchen. Felix could hear the other men shouting bawdy jibes at Carver, and Felix rolled his eyes once again. Barbarians.  
  
He returned with hands full of bread and meat, closing the door with his foot and shutting out the new round of a badly out of tune _Andraste’s Mabari_. Carver sat at the table again with a quick grin for Felix, and divided the food between them. Another comfortable hour passed, and Felix relaxed for the first time since finding himself in the past.  
  
The candles burned low in their holders and the noise from downstairs quieted; the late hour cast a spell over them. Carver’s eyes glittered as he gestured and moved with the story he told. Felix lost track of the narrative thread as he watched the young man’s enthusiasm.  
  
Felix had spent hours watching Carver already. Since the night they met, Felix had felt a pull towards the man, couldn’t tear his eyes away except when truly necessary or when he found Carver watching back. Carver was tall, standing a few inches over Felix and several over the other Amells. His pale skin bronzed when they spent time in the sun riding across Ferelden, little freckles dotting the bridge of his nose and his high cheekbones. His long, thick hair was often tied back in a plait, but tonight it was unbound, the dark strands falling around his face in lazy curls. Felix spent long hours on Carver’s horse riding in front of him, practically sitting in the man’s lap, and Carver’s muscled arms wrapping around Felix’s body gave him _ideas_.  
  
Carver trailed off and Felix realized he had lost the train of thought. He had no idea what Carver said in the past few minutes. “I’m sorry, Carver. I drifted off for a few minutes.” Carver smirked, a glint appearing in his eye, and Felix knew his eyes must have wandered to Carver’s muscles, his lips, his collarbones visible under the thin fabric of his shirt.  
  
Felix felt a bubble of nervousness in his chest. He knew this was it; they needed to consummate the marriage so it would be legal in the eyes of the state and the Maker. Felix was not unused to sex without feelings, sex just for the fun of it, sex because a man was attractive and he was horny. Somehow this felt different, and it wasn’t just because he’d never been with a virgin before.  
  
Carver’s throat worked as he swallowed, his eyes trailing down Felix’s face. Felix took this as a sign and stood up. “Well, I suppose we should get this over with.”  
  
Carver raised an eyebrow. “Get this over with? You make it sound so… thrilling.”  
  
Felix’s cheeks warmed and he glanced away. “I imagine this isn’t how you thought your wedding night would be.”  
  
Carver shrugged and rose to stand before Felix, looking down into his face. “It’s _ours_ , and I can’t say I’m disappointed.” His fingers brushed Felix’s cheek in a soft caress, and a shiver ran down Felix’s spine.  
  
Felix leaned in and brushed their lips together in a gentle kiss, chaste and sweet. Carver’s hands moved to cradle Felix’s face, like he was precious and cherished, and Felix gripped Carver’s waist with firm hands. Carver tasted like the rich wine and salted meats they had eaten, but something else underneath, something Felix now knew was uniquely Fereldan.  
  
This certainly hadn’t been what Felix expected either. Carver tilted his head and deepened the kiss, licking at the corners and along the seam of his lips, expertly sliding his tongue into Felix’s mouth and pulling him closer until their bodies came together from chest to knee. Carver smelled like outdoors, sunshine and fresh air and clean sweat, only a little like dog. His tongue dipped and thrust inside Felix’s mouth, leaving him breathless and slightly weak in the knees.  
  
Felix pulled back feeling dazed. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, adjusting to the low light after not realizing they had closed at all. “I thought you said you were a virgin,” he murmured, the words sounding breathy and weak.  
  
Carver grinned and pecked him on the cheek. “I said virgin, not a monk.” He backed up a few steps and stripped his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, leaving his chest bare. He was clad in only the kilt wrapped around his waist. The light from the hearth behind him silhouetted him in the darkness, throwing flickering shadows across his muscled chest and Felix felt his mouth go dry. Carver started to unknot the large swath of fabric, but paused as he glanced up at Felix.  
  
His fingers stopped moving and a hint of worry appeared in his eyes. Felix scrambled to shed his own clothing, tripping over his boots and getting his arms tangled in the shirt. He still hadn’t grown used to this archaic style of clothing; for all its simplicity it was still somehow incredibly difficult to extract himself from. He could only thank the Maker that he wasn’t wearing a kilt, just a simple pair of trousers, because getting in and out of those garments looked at least as complicated as the fancy robes Dorian liked to wear. When Felix stood in just his underclothes, he looked back at Carver who stood before the bed naked, trepidation on his face.  
  
Felix moved forward to brush a hand across Carver’s shoulder, and when Carver’s gaze came back to Felix’s face, a true smile broke through the anxiety. Carver dipped his head again and claimed Felix’s lips, unexpected heat rushing through him. Felix’s hands wound into Carver’s hair, pulling at the coarse locks to bring them closer together. Felix bit at Carver’s lower lip, drawing it into his mouth with a hint of pressure and Carver groaned, fingers tensing on Felix’s shoulders.  
  
He found himself pushing onto his tip-toes to bring them to the same height, needing to be closer. Carver’s hands dug into his back, one sliding down to palm Felix’s ass with a grunt. Felix’s hips rocked into Carver’s, his clothed cock brushing against Carver’s bare one, and lust spiraled through him. Carver’s body gave off heat like a furnace, skin transferring warmth at every point of contact, and it was welcome in the chilly southern air.  
  
Felix dragged his mouth away and pushed Carver back onto the bed. He fell with a breath of laughter and a small bounce onto the straw mattress. He reclined onto his elbows and Felix felt that frisson of desire run through him again at the sight of Carver on display, knees spread and cock heavy for him, just for Felix, the first man to see Carver like this. Felix felt another unexpected twist of desire in his belly.  
  
Felix dragged his own smallclothes off, his cock hard and jutting into the air. Carver’s lips parted slightly and his eyes never left Felix’s shaft, and he felt a stab of pride. Felix palmed the head of his cock and gave it a couple of slow strokes, watching Carver’s face as he licked his lips and goosepimples erupted over his skin.  
  
“Have you ever seen a man’s hard cock before, Carver?”  
  
Carver shook his head, eye still glued to where Felix pumped into his own hand. “N-no. Just when we’re bathing or changing, not…” he swallowed and his voice grew thick, “not like this.”  
  
Felix smiled. Maybe this inexperience wouldn’t be the worst thing. If Carver looked at Felix like this all the time… he could get used to that. “Have you thought about it before?”  
  
Carver’s eyes rose to meet Felix’s, and a rosy stain covered his fair cheeks. “Girls, mostly, but… I have.” Felix licked his own lips at the confidence in Carver’s voice.  
  
“Who did you think about, Carver? Another boy in the castle? One of the Amells? Someone when you were hiding in Orlais?” Felix could just see it, Carver alone in a strange land, hiding from the Tevinters in Ferelden, meeting another boy jerking himself off to his first desire.  
  
A small dip appeared between Carver’s brow, and Felix realized he made a misstep. Carver shook his head and his eyes slid away from Felix. “No, no one like that.”  
  
“Then who?”  
  
The flush on Carver’s cheeks deepened and crept down his neck onto his chest. “You, Felix.”  
  
The words punched into him like a fist in the gut, and his hand stuttered to a stop. _Oh_. What could he even say to that?  
  
It made sense; Felix was an attractive guy, and Carver had paid him special attention since the beginning. Felix was older, probably seen as wiser in some ways with his healing knowledge, and he was openly gay. Fereldans weren’t much phased by this, but Felix hadn’t seen many other same-sex couples in the Amell clan.  
  
Felix didn’t know what to say, so he crawled into Carver’s lap to kiss him. It was all he could do, not wanting to deal with growing feelings for someone who was not Dorian.  
  
Carver leaned his weight on one elbow to touch Felix’s cheek with his opposite hand, and Felix moved to grip Carver’s cock.  
  
Carver whimpered into his mouth at the first touch of Felix’s hand, the first hand not his own to touch him, and Felix felt his hips jerk upward. Felix smiled at the instinctive reaction and spit in his hand before gripping them together.  
  
As their cocks pressed together, Carver collapsed back onto the bed and Felix grinned at the way his touch affected the man beneath him. Carver’s mouth opened on a long drawn-out sound, his eyes screwed up, his hands moved to grip around Felix’s ribs, fingers twitching whenever Felix twisted his hand.  
  
Felix marveled at how sensitive Carver seemed to be, and watching him orgasm was a thing of beauty. Carver’s ears and neck grew redder, his jaw dropped like he wanted to scream but all that came out were breathy little whimpers, his back arched in a sinuous curve, and his fingers clutched Felix like he was a lifeline. His cock jerked and come splattered across Felix’s hand as he worked him through it.  
  
Carver collapsed and his hands fell away, completely drained of energy. Felix stroked him a few more times until a pained noise high in Carver’s throat made him pull away. His own cock was still hard, unsurprising since Carver’s first time took only a few minutes, but he released them both and eased himself to lie beside Carver, arms brushing but otherwise separate.  
  
Heavy breathing filled the silence in the room. “That was…” Carver’s voice after another minute sounded raspy and worn out. Felix smiled to himself. Carver huffed and rolled onto his side, throwing an arm across Felix’s chest and nuzzling into his collar. “Oh, but,” he stopped. “You didn’t…”  
  
A crestfallen look covered his face and Felix felt a pang of guilt in his belly. “No, Carver, it’s alright. I—“  
  
Carver shook his head, and his enormous warm hand wrapped around Felix’s cock. The touch brought it back to full hardness and Felix’s hand clutched Carver’s forearm. His eyes slipped closed as Carver stroked him, his hand pulling away only for a moment so he could spit into it before returning to circle his thumb around the head.  
  
His orgasm washed over him, pleasant and welcome, and he fell lax on the bed. Carver wiped his hand on the sheet and snuggled back into the curve of Felix’s shoulder. Felix froze under the affection, but as Carver relaxed and sprawled across him, he relaxed in turn and brought his arm around Carver’s body.  
  
Felix only realized he fell asleep as he woke to Carver curled around him, gentle snores coming from his open mouth. His face looked even younger in sleep, all the lines created through stress and hard living smoothed out. Felix wanted to know exactly what had put them there, what Carver had lived through before this. He was so young, just barely a man, and yet from what Felix knew, it hadn’t been an easy life, especially not during the Tevinter occupation.  
  
From what Felix remembered of his history classes, by the end of this Age, the Highlander way of life had been wiped out completely. He felt a twist in his chest at the reminder that they were so different, from two completely foreign eras and how could this ever work? Maybe he wanted this to work. His heart started to race at the terrifying idea. He put that thought away to examine at a different time, not when Carver was draped over him.  
  
They must not have slept for very long; the fire in the hearth was not a full blaze, but still more than embers. He shifted beneath Carver, his arm starting to tingle from the weight of Carver’s head on his shoulder, and the movement woke Carver. He blinked blearily into Felix’s face and as awareness came back, a slow, satisfied grin came with it.  
  
Felix couldn’t help a matching smile, and Carver pushed himself up into a kiss. Heat stirred in the pit of Felix’s belly, and he could feel Carver’s excitement growing against his leg. Felix chuckled into their kiss, and Carver pulled away to duck his head with a growing blush. “Already? My, I certainly miss that kind of stamina.”  
  
“Can’t help it,” Carver mumbled, “never had a bonny Tevinter in my bed.” He kissed Felix again, this time with more passion, his tongue wet and hot inside Felix’s mouth, and Felix felt that bubble in his chest grow a little bit more. Carver slid between Felix’s legs, grinding his hips against Felix’s and reviving his own erection in the process.  
  
“Insatiable,” Felix laughed as Carver trailed kisses across his cheek to nibble his earlobe. “Want to try something else?” Carver nodded rapidly, pulling away to look into Felix’s eyes. His eagerness was certainly flattering, and Felix smiled at him. He glanced around the room, wondering what would be available at this point in time to use as slick. “I wonder…”  
  
“Do you,” Carver started, before stuttering to a halt as a blush crept up his neck. “I have some, uh, some stuff.” He scurried off the bed to rifle through the clothing on the floor and returned to kneel beside Felix holding a clear glass container with a cork stopper. “Aveline gave this to me, said, uh, it would come in handy.”  
  
Felix bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the suddenly bashful side of Carver. He sent a silent blessing to Aveline for her forethought, and pulled Carver down to kiss again. “She is a resourceful woman.”  
  
Carver shifted until he knelt between Felix’s thighs again, holding the glass vial of oil in one giant hand and nervously petting Felix’s leg with the other. He didn’t move any further than that, so Felix took the vial from him.  
  
“Carver, I want you to fuck me.” Carver’s lips parted on a rough exhalation of breath before he licked his lips and nodded quickly.  
  
“Yeah, alright. I can, I want that.” His eyes darted from Felix’s eyes to his mouth to his cock, and Felix couldn’t help the amused affection rising inside him. “What do I do?”  
  
Felix pulled a pillow away from the head of their bed and placed it underneath his hips. He uncapped the vial and poured some of the oil onto Carver’s first two fingers. “Start with one finger, and eventually we’ll work our way up. You’ve heard about how this works, at least?”  
  
Carver ducked his head and the pretty little blush came back over his cheeks. “Course I have,” he mumbled, but he seemed to overcome the embarrassment with determination. He settled himself on his knees between Felix’s legs and his thumbs spread Felix’s cheeks.  
  
“Slowly,” Felix said, and Carver obeyed. One finger pressed into him, the stretch familiar yet different with Carver’s thick digits. Felix let his eyes slip closed, reveling in the sensation of Carver inside him until the last time Dorian had fucked him came to mind, and his eyes jolted open again.  
  
Carver looked up from between Felix’s thighs with an awed expression, his gaze darting between Felix’s face and his ass. “Is this ok?” His finger went all the way to the knuckle inside Felix before sliding back out. Felix hummed in agreement, and Carver repeated the motion.  
  
“Another,” Felix said, and Carver looked up at him with a dazed face, clearly not comprehending the question. “Another finger.” Carver swallowed and nodded. His fingers were calloused and rough, totally unlike Dorian’s soft and delicate hands more used to manicures and pampering than riding horses and roughhousing. Felix focused on the hands in the present, on beautiful Carver’s determination and excitement.  
  
He eased another finger inside Felix with a soft noise, and Felix echoed with a louder one at the feeling. After a few moments, Felix’s hips started rocking along with Carver’s slow rhythm, and the encouragement made Carver pick up the pace.  
  
On a deep thrust, the tips of his fingers brushed against Felix’s prostate and he cried out. Carver’s fingers froze there and Felix’s hips bucked and legs squeezed against Carver’s, pulling him closer. He moaned Carver’s name, and his jerky movements made Carver’s fingers move enough to touch his prostate again, sending sparks through his whole body.  
  
Carver seemed to recognize that this was different, that he wasn’t actually hurting Felix, and every other downstroke sent spikes of pleasure through Felix.  
  
“Now, Carver, now,” he breathed, and Carver made an unidentifiable noise. His fingers left an emptiness inside Felix, some void that he couldn’t put a name to. Felix hitched his legs around Carver’s torso and pulled him closer until he felt Carver’s cock leave sticky trails across his hip.  
  
Felix opened his eyes so he could position Carver’s cock at his entrance, and he glanced up to make sure Carver was ready. Carver’s eyes darkened with yearning and scorching heat, and Felix felt a thrill at the attention solely directed at him. It was heady and intoxicating and completely different than anything Felix had ever felt before.  
  
Carver tilted his head in question, and Felix nodded. Carver’s eyes darted down and his attention focused on easing into Felix with a slow push. The way he stretched around Carver’s cock was a satisfying burn and Felix fell into a sea of bliss. Felix’s legs tightened around Carver’s body, and Carver froze with his cock halfway in. Sweat beaded on his forehead and Felix smiled at the care in his eyes.  
  
“Come on, Carver, give it to me.” Carver’s nostrils flared and the corner of his mouth quirked.  
  
“Alright Fee, you asked for it,” and oh Maker. Felix had, and Carver delivered. His hips slammed forward and Felix moaned wantonly. His cries encouraged Carver and he picked up the pace, his hips driving deep and hard. The mattress moved beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with a resounding thump-thump-thump.  
  
Felix’s hands roamed across Carver’s body, unable to settle in any one place as Carver fucked him. Shoulders, chest, hips, back, hair, face, they skittered across the miles of skin and paused at each scar and blemish from a life of hardship. Eventually he stretched one out above him to hold the headboard and the other held onto Carver’s side, the tense muscles of his chest shifting beneath the skin.  
  
This wasn’t what he’d expected. As the pleasure crashed over him, every thrust sending him spiraling higher and higher, he didn’t want the extra feelings that came with it, the need to be closer, the desire to protect and keep Carver for himself, this new appetite for Carver’s body and Carver’s feelings and everything about him. He had only known love with Dorian before, but this was different, this was _more_.    
  
It scared Felix, as he realized he may be in too deep with this man mid-coitus, but Carver pounding him into the mattress had the side effect of sweeping any thoughts other than yes, good, more, please to the back of his mind.  
  
Carver’s hand shifted between their bodies to take Felix’s cock in hand. The pressure of his grip, strong from wielding a greatsword for many years, sent another wave of pleasure through him. Carver’s eyebrows furrowed, mouth open as he panted heavily, and he kept his eyes on Felix’s face the whole time. It felt too intimate, too deep, and Felix shut his eyes.  
  
“Felix, I didn’t, you’re so good, Fee, this is…” Carver trailed off, murmuring words of affection and encouragement. His voice rasped, wrecked with emotion.  
  
His hips lost their rhythm, driving into Felix with force as Carver approached the edge of his orgasm. His hand worked faster on Felix’s cock, and Felix was lost. He came, pleasure flooding through every nerve in his body, calling out Carver’s name, hands clenching and grasping against whatever they touched. It was all-consuming, and all he could see or feel or think was _Carver_. Carver choked and followed Felix over the edge, hips slowing as he came down from his own orgasm.  
  
Carver collapsed onto Felix, crushing him into the mattress, but for some reason, Felix didn’t push him off. His outstretched arm trailed down to brush through Carver’s hair, tangling in his thick mane. Their sweat and slick and sticky come dried on their bodies, but Felix felt none of his usual fastidiousness to clean himself immediately. He wanted to lie there with Carver’s weight until he fell asleep, and maybe the world would make sense again when he woke up.  
  
It didn’t. Nothing was resolved when he awoke, as he was still stuck in the past with a new Fereldan husband, but he was clean, dry, and covered in blankets with Carver once again curled into his side. In the darkness of the early morning hours, Felix thought about Dorian left behind and the new future laying ahead, wondering if he could let go and be happy here.  
  
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts, and Carver nuzzled into his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> scream with me about outlander, feverix, or dragon age in general on tumblr, [professionallilbrocarverhawke](http://www.professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com)
> 
> title from a leona lewis song
> 
>  
> 
> fic inspired by these quotes from the book: 
> 
>    
>  _"Does it bother you that I'm not a virgin?" He hesitated a moment before answering._
> 
> _"Well, no," he said slowly, "so long as it doesna bother you that I am." He grinned at my drop-jawed expression, and backed toward the door._
> 
> _"Reckon one of us should know what they're doing," he said. The door closed softly behind him; clearly the courtship was over._  
>   
> 
> — — —
> 
>  
> 
> _“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again._
> 
> _“I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.”_


End file.
